The Adventures of Clinton Francis Barton
by okiedokie-lokie
Summary: Small drabbles of what I can only imagine happens in the Avengers Tower when Clint's there. Post-Avengers. Post-CA:TWS. Loki and Bucky and Falcon and maybe other characters will be mentioned. I will also include (maybe) some pairings, either with Clint or in the background. I do not own any characters, only plots and other things. Warning: probably some harmed bread crumbs.
1. Don't Touch That

"Dude. Don't you dare." The chair underneath him squeaks as he moves his weight forward, still perched. One finger is raised from a clenched fist. It points to a dark-hooded figure on the other side of the shared kitchen. "Those are mine. Stark bought them for me from Japan. They're special."

The figure looks at me then at the box labeled "Best Bread Crumbs". The hood chuckles. A glimpse of silver is seen taking the box. In a sharp mumble, "I need them more, Hawk."

_Oh, the little fucker. _"James Barnes!" The chair falls with a loud crack against the too nice wood floor. I chase the ex-assassin down the halls, grabbing the closest things to my hands and retching them at Bucky. Expensive or not, _screw it._ It never crossed my mind.

I see Bruce walk out of the elevator mumbling something about Thor snoring, labs, and beds. Clint sees Bruce, who is watching the scene unfold, and silently curses to himself if he wakes up the Hulk.

It was way too quick. An expensive vase _(I'll haft explain that to Tony later)_ hurdled towards Bucky, but with a swift hit, made its way towards Banner. Within a quick blink of an eye, a nervous glance between Bucky and I, the Hulk was awake and grabbed me first in a rib-crushing grip. Bucky chuckles and hauls down the hallway.

"Bird-Man stays here with Hulk," _I feel some ribs breaking. Great_. "Where is Silver-Arm?"

I wish I didn't gulp out loud. "Well, he went somewhere."

"Then Hulk find him with help."

"Shit." _I'm screwed._

Well... Let's just say, there was a couple holes in the wall, a seething Tony, a bionic arm thrown out somewhere, and a happy bird picking up his unharmed bread crumbs.


	2. Falling to Deaf Ears

Clearly, no one understands the term personal space. Not even 'Tasha. I mean, how hard is it to follow such a small need? I make sure everyone is okay. I don't go up to her and touch _her _stuff. _Well, most of the time._

_Maybe Captain Spangles knows what's up._

"Hey Steve, have you seen my Batman comic? It's a limited edition and its valuable to me," Steve looks at me like I just talked to him in a foreign language. _Fuck. This isn't gunna work._

He gathers himself. "I haven't. But I can ask around if you'd like."

"Make sure your 40s boyfriend didn't touch it, or he wouldn't have arms," the last fiasco with that douche was enough.

Steve blushed lightly and opened his mouth to protest, but no noise came out. "I'll make sure."

"Good." It was going to be a long day.

Hours. Thats all it takes. Really. Hours of searching, asking around, even asking the damned AI that Tony built for god-knows-what. And in a sick British voice, it replied with a simple "no". _There goes my limited edition comic._

_I feel like punching a goddamn wall. _A noise peaks my curiosity and small inner rage. Loki turns into the kitchen area and walking to the pantry. He almost looks smug. _Almost._ I hide behind the tall counter to watch my old boss's every move. He rustles around the pantry, grabs the Oreo's, grabs a milk carton from the fridge and sits down on a stool by the kitchen island. I continue watching from behind.

I overhear Loki starting to mumble. "The Hawk has yet to question me. What a fool. What is that phrase Midgardians say? Oh, yes. He 'falls to deaf ears'." I see him take a book out of his oversized jacket.

The light hits it at a too-perfect angle.

"LOKI LAUFEYSON! IT WAS YOU!" Everything was too quick, _funny how that rings a bell._ A hand waves, green shit appear, I freeze midair. _Just a normal day at Avengers Tower._


	3. SHIELD Protocols

Chapter 3: SHIELD Protocol

"State your name."

"Clint Barton." A chuckle slipped from my mouth.

The mouthless voice repeats. "State your _full _name."

I sigh, rolling my eyes. "My name is Clinton Francis Barton. Happy?"

"Affirmative. State your position at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Uh, Standing?" I crack another smile. _This was too easy._

"State your position."

"Archer." The darkness in the room was humorous. "C'mon Coulson! You know this shit already!"

A click of a button, then faint static. "Its just protocol, Barton. Don't get your arrows in a twist."

"Congrats, Coulson. You actually said something sarcastic," I leaned back on the chair in the empty room, laughing out loud this time. _Coulson doesn__'__t seem to happy._

The static died and the automated voice came back.

"State your team."

"The Avengers, dammit."


End file.
